“There would’ve been fewer soldiers here than on the mainland,” she said. “But there’s always a chance. Some of the things that happened in Greece were appalling. I read that—”
“Don’t tell me.” Joy slapped her hands over her ears. “My imagination is bloody bad enough.”
Victoria came out through the kitchen doorway and smiled briefly at them before heading for the stairs.
“Your hubby all right?” Joy called, just as Andreas emerged,followed closely by Adam. There were spots of red on the front of his shirt, a wad of bandages around one finger.
“Apologies for all the fuss,” he said, looking faintly embarrassed. “The trouble with everything being so white around here is that it shows the blood far more dramatically.”
“I think I’ve got some bicarb of soda under my sink,” Joy said. “I’ll go and fetch it.”
“Hey, guys,” Victoria’s voice called from above. “You’re not going to believe it, but I have signal up here.”
Adam almost stumbled in his haste to join her, but Skye went straight for the front door, keen to escape, to run far beyond the reach of any signal. Why hadn’t she just turned the damn thing off or, better yet, thrown it overboard from the ferry on her way across from Piraeus? Fully intending to take if not the second then definitely the first option, she ran along the stony path outside only to freeze as she felt it.
The vibration of a ringing phone against her side.
Ten
It was her mother.
Skye breathed out, swore, then answered.
“Finally. Where on earth are you?”
“Hi, Mum.”
The line was faint. Skye pressed the handset closer to her ear, listening to the volley of tuts that followed.
“Glad to hear you’re alive,” her mother said sarcastically. “I’ve only called you, oh, eight times in the past two days.”
“Sorry.” Skye waved limply at Joy, who was back with a selection of cleaning products, including—rather alarmingly—a bottle of turpentine. “I meant to check in, I’ve just been busy.”
“Busy?” her mother said. “Busy where? Doing what? Are you abroad? The ringtone sounded strange.”
Skye made a murmur of disagreement that was quickly interrupted.
“I know you’re not with Sal. I’ve already spoken to her.”
“You called Sal?”
“Well, you weren’t picking up. I thought if you’d run off anywhere, it would be to her. Wouldn’t exactly be the first time.”
“What did she say?” Skye asked, to which her mother sighed.
“That she had no idea where you were, although I got the distinct impression she was lying to me. Lies are like rotten eggs—they always leave a bad smell.”
She should not have answered the phone. Cassandra MacKinnon, corporate lawyer, business owner, and breaker of the world’s balls, was not accustomed to being ignored. Now that the worry over her daughter’s safety was gone, Skye guessed her mother would go on the attack.
“I’ve told you time and time again,” she said, “running away from your problems never solves them.”
What was it Skye’s father had once said?Your mum is full of so much fire that she could easily have earned herself a walk-on part inGame of Thrones.
The phone was hot against her ear.
“I know you lost your job, but so have a lot of people, and not all of them upped and fled the country as a result.”
“It’s got nothing to do with that,” Skye said truthfully, moving to one side as Andreas appeared. Seeing her on the phone, he raised a questioning brow, and she flashed a smile, watching as he crossed to the truck and lifted down another box. This one had “Adam’s office” written on the side and several cables trailing from a rip at the bottom.
